A Quest for Cyrodiil
by Eva Grey
Summary: Rowevenna was loyal to the king, to her people. She was willing to give up everything, even when she realized she was in love with the heir, Martin. Rated M for paranoia's sake. There's really nothing bad in it.
1. From Sewers to Freedom

When I first became aware that I was madly in love with my country's future king, I refused to acknowledge the fact that I was completely and totally smitten by him. Even though I'd visit Cloud Ruler Temple every chance I got, even though I'd sit at the table next to him whenever I could, and even though I thought of him constantly I told myself it was because I was incredibly loyal to him and that it was my duty to remain close at hand in case something happened.

Then I began to think about things like, _what if he and I did have a future together?_ And then I'd really get going, although I told myself it was purely for fun and that being a young woman I had a right to think such things-- as long as no one ever found out. I'd dream of my life after Oblivion and war, of how I'd live in the castle, wear grand dresses made of the finest fabric, eat only the best foods, and spend all my free time relaxing with Martin. But then the serious side of me would kick in and she'd crush every hope that I had had.

He was, first of all, much older than I, probably by about ten years or so. He was also an Imperial, while I had been born a Breton up in the north country of Cyrodiil. I had been raised by a poor farmer whose wife had died after birthing her twelfth child, I being the sixth born out of all my siblings. I had no inheritance, no home to speak of, and the only thing that made me well off was the fact that practically everyone knew my name. 'It's the hero of Kavatch!' they'd call, or 'Look! It's the one who's come to save us!' I cringed at the thought. I had long grown tired of a following.

And more over… I wasn't good enough for him. I was nothing but a humble servant to my country, one who stood against the Daedric evils that threatened our world. I wished nothing more than to save the world and then retire from it, returning to the rolling hills, mountains, and cleansing snow of the North Country.

And yet at the same time… Life could be grand with him. Bearable. Enjoyable. More than I had ever hoped for.

And so I kept dreaming.

**Part One – Chapter One:**

I arose the first morning of my imprisonment stiff and sore, the harsh stone floors not being fit for wild animals. I stretched and stood, moving toward the bars. The clothes they had clad me in barely covered my form adequately, and I often caught the guards staring into my cell while they were on duty. I wasn't about to complain, however—there wasn't a chance in hell I was going to give in to them.

"You'll never get away with this!" I called out, grasping the bars of my cell with thin, delicate hands. "You can't just take away my father's land like you did!" I swore loudly, thrusting myself from the bars that held me in. Foolish Imperials! A dark elf from across the way began to taunt me, something about how I was going to die in my cell. I snorted as I pulled my hands through my hair, weaving my fingers through the short strands in an attempt to untangle the wisps that had become woven together during my night's sleep.

"…Hear that? They're coming… For you!" The elf finished his rant, cackling as sets of footsteps approached our cells. He moved back into a corner of his confined area, whilst I moved forward, hesitant yet curious. I gasped, recognizing one of the faces coming closer immediately. It was the king!

"They're all dead…" He murmured, lowering his head. Three guards were with him, two male, and one female.

"You don't know that, sir. All the report said was that they were attacked…"

And so begins my tale.

All in all I learned of the king's sad tale, and how all his sons had been murdered by a group called the Mythic Dawn. The king and his guards (also known as the Blades) had come to my cell because it held a secret passage way that would allow him, hopefully, to escape. Oddly enough, the king didn't seem so keen on escaping, and I really couldn't figure out why. At first one of his Blades tried to threaten me, but by putting out his hand the king stopped her.

"She… Is the one from my dreams," he murmured, looking me in the eye. Grasping my hand tightly, the king told me of his dreams, and how I was the one who needed to save all the people everywhere, all across Cyrodiil. Before he could say anything more his Blades gently coaxed him down the corridor that had appeared, leading away from my cell. The king gave me a beckoning look, and with a small sigh I followed a short distance behind the three Blades and my king. I kept to the shadows; my eyes were on the look out for any sort of trouble that might come up. Although I was certain the Blades themselves could be trusted to protect the king, I was certain they wouldn't mind if something popped up from nowhere and killed me. It would be one less problem for them, after all.

We walked silently along the old stone steps and hallways until we came to large, open area with pillars. This did not look good. I stayed behind a bit, waiting for something to happen. I could feel in my gut that all was not well and that this was a dangerous place, a battle waiting to happen. I was, therefore, not surprised when oddly cloaked persons came running at the Blades, and attacked. I watched as the Captain, Renault, was assalied and then killed.

"She is… Dead?" The king murmured, his sad, watery eyes looking to one of the other Blades. The Blade in question swore, kicking a stone with his foot.

"Yes, Captain Renault is dead. There's nothing we can do, sire. We must keep moving forward." The king nodded once, and the two remaining Blades followed him. I approached the Captain's body, and I knelt beside it, murmuring a prayer over the corpse. I reverently closed her eyes, and crossed her arms over her chest. I hoped that someone would go back, eventually, and give her a proper burial. One of the Blades looked back at me and our eyes met for a moment before he grunted, and looked away.

A short while later they came to a door. I waited until the door was unlocked, and the king and a Blade had stepped through. I was about to follow when the one remaining thrust out his hand, pushing me away. He shook his head and went through the door, locking it shut behind him. I ran up to the door and banged my fist on it. "Damn!" I swore, resting my forehead against the door's dirty, splintered surface. "I suppose I'll be forced to find another way out…" I turned, and I heard rumbling. Pushing off of the door, I stood back, and watched as some rather large rats burst through the wall to my right, and ran towards me. I put my hand out and muttered an ancient spell, causing flames to burst from my hands. I killed one, and another lept towards me, biting my leg. I cried out in pain, but soon made short work of the pest. I killed the remaining rat quickly, and then I examined my wound, then my hands. The skin was bright pink from the flames, and it stun. I sighed, taking in a deep breath. I would be fine, I told myself. At least I'd live.

I stepped cautiously over the rubble and went through the opening into what appeared to be a cavern. I walked cautiously, hoping to not run into any more trouble. I was sorely dissappointed, however, and had to fight for my life on more than one occasion. As I battled my way through the cavern, I managed to pick up a bow and some arrows, some very old armor, and a goblin staff so that I could cast spells without causing harm to my hand. After what felt like years of wandering, I came out of the caverns to hear voices. My heart leapt up into my throat when I realized it was the Blades. I jumped gracefully to where they were talking, causing them to step back and draw their weapons.

"What if she's a spy?"

"She could easily be working for the Mythic Dawn…" One of them stepped closer to me, a dark look upon his brows. The king's thundering voice answered him.

"No. You shall not harm this girl. She is the key…" I stood, moving over to the king, and kneeling before him.

"I would _never_ even dream of harming you my lord, I-"

"I know," he replied, placing a hand on my head, he moved it so that his fingers rested under my chin, and his eyes told me to stand. I did so, gazing back at him. The Blades seemed angered by the affection the king showed for me. Little did they know that he was planning on setting the weight of the world on my shoulders, and what appeared to be looks of fondness were actually looks of pity. "What is your birth sign?" He asked me softly.

"I am… Born under The Mage," I replied, wondering how my birth sign could matter at a time like this. He nodded, and then continued. He spoke of the Nine Divines, and told me even more about my fate, and his.

"Follow us," he pleaded of me softly before continuing on his way. "Baurus, please."

The one the king spoke to looked at me for a long time before he walked over to where I was, thrusting a torch in my direction. "Take this. If you're going to come along, at least be somewhat useful." I nodded once, taking the torch and lighting the way as we walked. My feet ached by now, and I could hardly wait to get out of this dark and dank place and make my way back to the surface where the air was pure and the light shone all day long. We soon came across the enterance to the sewers, but the door had been locked from the other side. We were… trapped.

"Come, this way!" The Blade who had not been named called, and we hurried off to a small room. The Blades left the room, preparing to fight the enemy off. "Guard him with your life," Baurus had warned, looking me in the eye before slipping away to fight.

"I can… Go no further. But there is hope! I have another son, an illegitate child who now needs to take control of this kingsom. Go to Weynon Priory, and talk to Jauffre! He will tell you where Martin is." He handed me the Amulet of Kings, which I all but refused until his voice grew stern. "Take it! My life is nearly over. It is now your duty to fulfill the promises I have made. Heed my words… You _shall_ be the savior of this world." Suddenly, as if from nowhere, a Mythic Dawn agent pushed me aside, making way for the king, obviously planning to do him great harm. My torch fell to the ground and sizzled as it went out, making the room dark. I scurried to my feet, my hands ready to cast a spell. But it was far too late. The king had been murdered. The Mythic Dawn agent loomed over me, raising his weapon as if to strike…

But Baurus saved me, stabbing the agent with his sword. I moved to stand against the wall, afraid that Baurus would now kill me for failing to protect the king. "The king is dead," he murmured, "and Glenroy has fallen as well." He knelt before the king. His voice grew angry after a moment, when he realized that the Amulet of Kings was missing from his emperor's body. "Where is it?" He demanded, harsh eyes fallen on me, the only other person left standing.

"The king gave it to me," I murmured, holding it out. My voice grew louder and more confident as I spoke. "He wished me to go to Weynon Priory. There is one remaining heir. I am to give this Amulet to Jauffre. You cannot stop me."

In light of the dark situation, Baurus laughed for a short moment before growing serious again. "I would not stop you if it is the king's will for you to leave." He stood. "You are a Mage, are you not?" I nodded quickly, clutching the Amulet to my chest. "I thought so. Well, in any case, I'm going to stay here, and guard the king's body. I'll also prevent Mythic Dawn agents from following you." He gestured towards a door that had opened in the back of the room. "Please. Hurry." I nodded, and gave one last glance his way before running out the door. I headed through the sewers, and soon came out to an absolutely beautiful view of Cyrodiil. I breathed in deeply; glad to finally be out of the sewers. I jumped into the waters that now separated the sewers behind me and all the rest of Cyrodiil.

The water was cool and refreshing, and I was glad for the swim from the sewers to the land before me. When I crawled out of the water and onto the grassy bank I let myself lay in the cool, fresh blades for a while. I closed my eyes, the sunshine beating down so hard I could see it through my eyelids. It was good to be out of the dark, and into the light. I laid there for a while, knowing in my heart that once I traveled to Weynon Priory, I would be forfeiting my freedom, at least for a while. But for now I was bound to the king's words, and like a loyal servant I was not going to break them.

I would sacrifice _anything_ for my king. Anything.


	2. A Journey Begins

**Chapter Two:**

After basking in the sun for a couple of hours, I headed to Weynon Priory, which was just south of Chorrol. I trekked there on foot, since I didn't own a horse and I really didn't want to steal one. It took me a while, but the walk felt good. A warm breeze blew against my back, the ground was soft beneath my feet, and most of all… I wasn't confined by walls or iron rods. As Weynon Priory came into view, I began to worry about my appearance. I was fairly clean looking, but I was clad in dirty old rags and wrist irons were dangling from my wrists like bangles. Not only that, but by time I could tell my wounded leg was becoming infected. I swore as I glanced down at it, disgusted by the now puffy and oddly colored flesh. I let out a long sigh through my teeth, and ripped some cloth from my outfit to wrap around the festering wound. Once that was taken care of I ran my fingers through my hair, stopped by a stream and cleansed my face. I continued on my way.

Weynon Priory was surprisingly small, and as I entered the building I got the feeling that I was unwelcome in this tightly knit community. I nervously ran my fingers through my hair as I asked one of the residents if he knew where Jauffre was. The monk told me he was up one floor, and to the right. I nodded and thanked him as I climbed up the stairs, eager to deliver the Amulet. It weighed heavy in my hands, and I no longer desired to be responsible for it.

I entered his office cautiously, closing the door behind me when my body was all the way inside. He looked up from his desk, and paid me no mind for a while. After what felt like ages, he finally spoke. "What might I help you with, Miss?..."

"Rowevenna," I supplemented. "My name is Rowevenna. And I'm here because the king has died and has named Martin his heir, and I come to you because, well… You know where Martin is." His face suddenly became withdrawn, as if he couldn't trust me. I tossed the Amulet of Kings onto his desk, and it clinked as it stopped right between his hands. He reached out and touched it.

"How did you get this?" He whispered, awed by the Amulet. He looked up at me as I sank into a chair in the corner of the room, exhausted by my journey.

"I was there when the king died. He entrusted the Amulet to me for a while, at least until I could deliver it to you." I placed a hand on my forehead, my body shivering lightly even though I was burning up. I sighed heavily, knowing that the infection was getting worse. I listened as Jauffre stood, then walked over to where I was seated.

"Your leg is infected," he stated, and I rolled my eyes from under the cover of my hand. Even I could have easily told him that. "I have some medical supplies here, as well as some other items that may be of use to you." He walked away from me and I heard a click as a chest unlocked. "Feel free to use what you wish." I nodded once, and I heard the door open and his footsteps retreat from the room. As soon as I thought it was safe to get up I willed myself to move, and I limped over to the chest. I rummaged through the goods, pulling out some potions and a couple of scrolls. I also found some medical supplies, and I grabbed at them greedily, knowing that they could mean life or death for me at this point in time. The minor heal spell I had learned so long ago could not help me with my infected leg, so I was left to take care of it the old-fashioned way.

I sat myself on the floor, propping my leg up on the chest's lid. I first cleaned the wound, and then wrapped cloth around it, securing the bandage in place. I waited for a few more minutes before I stood. My leg was still causing me pain, but at least now I knew that I wouldn't be forced to cut it off in the near future. After I was finished dressing my wound I went downstairs and walked out of the priory. My eye was caught by a beautiful painted horse, and I hobbled over to get a closer look.

She was quite docile, and she allowed me to stroke her gently.

"Her name is Stella." I turned, and smiled at the man who spoke to me. By his clothing, I assumed he was a monk. I smiled at him.

"She's beautiful." I took a step back, and looked down at my hands before continuing. "I used to have a horse like her… A long, long time ago, back when I was a child." He nodded at me, and folded his hands in front of me.

"Jauffre has informed me of what you are to do. He wishes you to travel to Kvatch; Martin was, last we checked, there." I opened my mouth to speak, but the man raised his hand, and I closed it again, my lips forming a hard line. "You can take Stella with you. I shan't need her services again any time soon, and you have a long journey ahead of you."

I smiled, and then spoke. "Thank you, Sir…"

"Prior Maborel." I nodded, and gave a slight bow to him.

"Thank you, very much kind sir." I walked next to Stella and checked her sadle. Everything was ready for me to go. I carefully swung myself into place, and took hold of the reigns.

"Bring Martin back here as soon as you can," Prior Maborel spoke and a grave tone, and with a single handed salute he gave Stella a good pat. I urged her on into the dusk. I would bring Martin back, no matter what danger I faced. I was ready to prove myself, to show that I was worthy. Of what, I was not yet sure.


	3. A Burning Glow

**Chapter Three:**

Stella and I headed towards Kvatch, a small town that I hadn't ever been to before. I hummed lightly as I traveled, undisturbed by the ever growing darkness of night. I was so happy to be out of jail that I didn't even bother to sleep before heading to Kvatch. I followed the main road, and by the break of day I came to Skingrad. I took a map of Cyrodiil out from my pack, and after careful observation I decided to rest for a day in the city before continuing on to Kvatch. I understood the grave imprtance of my journey, but my leg was beginning to bother me and I knew I needed to rest and change my bandages. I directed Stella towards the city, and slowly climbed off her back when I reached the stables.

The rest of the day was a blur. I picked up some food and supplies before going to the temple to pray. I spent about an hour there in the temple, praying to Julianos (god of wisdom and logic) for some sort of answer. In all honesty, I was worried about my future. I wasn't old, after all. I was only nineteen years old, and I still had (hopefully) a lot of life ahead of me. After my midday prayer session, I headed for the local inn. I payed my price in gold for a night's stay, and barely made it to my room before collapsing into my bed. Using my feet I was able to remove my boots, and after that… Darkness.

When I awoke it was sometime in the evening because light no long filtered through my window, and the only light around was from a small candle that rested atop a table in the corner of the room. I stretched, sat up, and rested my face gently in my hands. I had a long journey ahead of me, but I assumed that it would all work out for the best. It had to. "Nothing happens in this world without the Gods' consent," I murmured to myself. I smiled a little. My mother had always said that to me whenever I complained about things that had happened. Every 'why did this happen?' question was answered with those exact words. I yawned, and shook my head. There was no time to dwadle. Martin and my destiny awaited me.

After cleaning my wound and casting a small heal spell to speed up my recovery, I headed for the stables outside the city walls. Stella was waiting for me, and she seemed as eager to leave as I did. I found that mounting her was easier this time, which assured me even more so that my leg would heal up nicely. I pulled her reigns and urged her forward, heading in the direction of Kvatch.

"I'm turning into quite the night owl," I muttered to myself as I traveled along a deserted road. Once again it was nightfall, and only the wood animals were about to keep Stella and I company.

It was not long before I saw fire in the distance. This forced me to urge Stella on faster until she was galloping grantically towards Kvatch. As I neared the city, an Altmer came rushing towards me. I pulled sharply on Stella's reigns so that she'd stop.

"The Daedra! They're everywhere!" The Altmer cried, his eyes wide with pure terror. His pale skin glowed in the fire light, and his body shook visibly. He stumbled a bit as he forced himself to stop infront of me. "Are you mad?" He cried. "Kvatch lays in ruins! Head back, head back!" He then pushed himself forward and kept running. I would see him again, much later in the city of Anvil, laughing and joking as if the horrors of Kvarch had never occurred.

I let out a small sigh and gently urged Stella forward, my heart beating loudly in my throat. I was afraid of what was ahead, but I knew that I had to keep pressing forward, that I had a royal duty to fulfull. If I did not I had failed Jauffre, and more importantly I had failed the king. So I continued to move forward, even though part of me was certain I might not ever leave Kvatch again.

A little further up the road I encountered a camp of refugees, and each one of them stopped me to tell me of their woe and how horrible it had been in the city when the Daedra had attacked. "But where did they come from?" I asked an Orc, who only sighed and looked at me wearily.

"A gate to Oblivion opened," he replied, running a hand over his head. "And then all hell broke loose." I dismounted from my horse, and called after him as he walked away, towards a tent.

"Do you know if a priest named Martin made it out?" I asked, a steady rain now falling, the sky over head turning a hazy shade of reddish grey.

He grunted. "No. We are the only survivors… Head up the hill and ask Savlin Matius. He would know a hell of a lot more than I do." I nodded, and held out the reigns to Stella.

"Will you take my horse, at least until I return?" He nodded, taking the reigns from my hand. I sighed, and moved forward, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "I swear to you, by all the power I have and all the breaths the Gods allow me to take… I will right this wrong." I continued up the hill before he had a chance to reply, my heart now pounding strongly in my chest.

I had never seen such a desolate look on someone's face, someone who had once been so strong… Now, not only did I have a duty to my liege, but also to the broken-hearted survivors of Kvatch. And I was planning on fulfilling this duty.


End file.
